When I was little I was a writer. I remember my first story at age 6 titled “Mr Green.” It was written during the magic of December and the main character was a Christmas tree, thus the title. Get it? My first grade teacher loved it. I beamed. How easy it was to please her. From then on, I had an answer whenever I was asked, “What are you going to be when you grow up?”
Then life happened. I found myself married with a teaching degree and woke up one day with three kids. Yes, three! But you know what? I was still a writer. I even managed to publish what I called my little mothering essays. I wrote articles for parents and educators. I created preschool Sunday School curriculum and devotionals for preschool teachers. Not exactly what I had in mind when I was young and picturing my future. But as usual, God knew what He was doing. My life’s path paved the way for me to write. My three children provided me lots of fodder to work with. My work as a teacher armed me with ideas to share.
Time trekked along. The kids grew and life got busier. Rejections discouraged. I lost the passion and gave up writing.
Or maybe I just put the desire in sleep mode for a time. Because I’m discovering the desire to write is springing to life again. And that the publication part is not so important anymore. I write because it’s what I want to do. Which brings me to the creation of this blog. Not yet sure of its direction but what a marvelous, motivating tool for a writer!
My kids have left home. And while they’re no longer around to inspire me to write, they are gone. Life is slower. I have more time on my hands. I loved this from a beautiful essay I read today by Michelle Blake in More magazine on her grown children: “I have to admit that there is one thing I don’t like about having grown children. They are gone, mostly the house is very quiet, the dog is a little older and sadder, and there is a space in my heart that was once so filled with bake sales and sick days that I didn’t know it was there until it, too, emptied out and got very quiet and a little older and sadder.”
That so beautifully describes my heart in my quiet house as I chase the memories in my mind, much like butterflies that flutter off leaving but a trace of dust behind.
And that is another reason to write. Consider this quote: “It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment?” Vita Sackville-West.
I heard a wonderful sermon this month that is adding fuel to the fire to write again. This is paraphrased but one Sunday morning my preacher asked, “What is turning your head? What have you been drawn to? What has captured you to the point that you think, ‘maybe I need to walk in that direction?’ As he said, you’ve sensed those stirrings of the spirit. Now is the time to lift that to God and say, ‘I’m ready to go. I’m going to trust you and wherever you lead me.’
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